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"sport" poems
So that you will hear me my words sometimes grow thin as the tracks of the gulls on the beaches. Necklace, drunken bell for your hands smooth as grapes. And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy. It climbs the same way on damp walls. You are to blame for this cruel sport. They are fleeing from my dark lair. You fill everything, you fill everything. Before you they peopled the solitude that you occupy, and they are more used to my sadness than you are. Now I want them to say what I want to say to you to make you hear as I want you to hear me. The wind of anguish still hauls on them as usual. Sometimes hurricanes of dreams still knock them over. You listen to other voices in my painful voice. Lament of old mouths, blood of old supplications. Love me, companion. Don't forsake me. Follow me. Follow me, companion, on this wave of anguish. But my words become stained with your love. You occupy everything, you occupy everything. I am making them into an endless necklace for your white hands, smooth as grapes.
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27.2k
So That You Will Hear Me
Glitter and gold is the man in the chair with rings on his fingers and the hardened harsh stare blinded by ugliness wrists chained down by no use a man with much money he spends on abuse the term known as trafficking familiar I’m sure he’s never been one for doing what’s pure so he lays down his money flings out his cash says he’ll pay the full price for the girl with the mask just to touch her to feel her pet her cold body with his run clammy hands up her scarred legs clamp her in his ashen fist little boys too he will willingly harm because trafficking to him is a sport no need for alarm Just cows in the system of making ends meat. The poor solemn dancer the poor saddened soul the poor battered spirit angry that they’ve been sold with ***** feet and scabby legs they work to feed the king the end from him they can only beg And freedom will never ring.
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
Glitter and Gold
Basketball is not a sport All they ever do is run around the court The players use an orange bouncy ball By the way, they're 11 feet tall And the net is only 10 feet high "How we gonna score, maybe bend our thigh?" Saying basketball's a sport is like sportifying 4 square What sports can you play while you're in a wheelchair? Basketball's just an activity So just dunk the ball for infinity Don't be stupid, be a smarty Don't go to a basketball party
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Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
Basketball
. I've stared... Longingly forever into you You'd stare back but you never really knew Hands of hours, minutes and seconds I've shook All the time I've carelessly took I've witnessed... That etched on each one, that amazing smile A crutch forged of sunrays that had carried me many a mile It's all that I have to know of you In this endless chase I've sought to pursue I've envisioned... Different ways you'd wear your crown Various trimmings on lavish gowns Smitten by the way you sport your paint The nectarous song sung in your gait ever so faint I've imagined... The addictive rise and fall of your every breath Bringing me back to life after every death Pulses of sweet nothings that never did ebb Ensnaring my heart with your silk spun web I've believed... You are the queen of my future tale untold I've felt it so real like verses written in bold But I've awakened from slumber into terrifying reality Pains me to realise that you're nothing but imaginary...
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Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 8:25 AM UTC
Imaginary
blue,sports,boxers, stereotypes girls wear blue I wear boxers and currently am identified as a female girls play every sport and any sport they want everyone is different so **** stereotypes!
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Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 11:56 AM UTC
Masculine Stereotypes
People consider basketball a non-violent sport Well you should see my body Sure I have the heart, and height But I never seem to score I have to pray to be put in I feel like I'm just not good enough But I'm gonna stick with it Because I'll be good soon enough I love basketball I love my team I love all the support I feel like its all a dream Thanks to all the girls Putting up with my lack of knowledge I really appreciate it I love you guys Thank you so much
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Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
Basketball
Softball Yellow, black Round, fast, hard Fun to play with A game for girls to play I love that sport Sport
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Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 8:25 PM UTC
Softball
Playing basketball feeling the basketball touch my hand is a cool feeling Basketball Basketball Basketball Playing basketball is so peaceful I love to play basketball and feeling the basketball touch my hand is a cool feeling basketball is my favorite sport to play and watch Basketball © Amanda Kay Hill 11/5/16
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Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 1:37 AM UTC
Basketball
i. ill snap the necks of everyone you love like little birds outside a nest ii. god held my hands as he plucked me from the sky , and told me i was no longer an angel . . iii. i pop pink pills from pink bottles , and set things on fire. you dont look me in the eyes anymore , even though i smile.
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Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 5:38 AM UTC
the little dog laughed to see such sport
I am a paper boat floating down a Stream, imagination made me from Yesterdays sport page, read now Turned in to this boat floating down This stream. Calm waters as I float as I pass a fisherman On the shore, a hat over his eyes as he Is sleeping not much biting as no fish In this river that I can see. I pass a pub only slightly damp as the Stones thrown by those drinking at the Shore, I hear a pint to sinks the boat, But to tipsy are they to throw straight Lucky for me. I float bobbing up an down, a fold slips And up a sail shoots me forward at speed. But the faster I go the more splashing on Me. I get wetter down the stream and I start to unfold more, till there is no boat Just soggy news paper floating down the Stream. It was fun being a boat, as I wash up on The side of the river, I was once part of a Tree then a news paper, I became a boat With imagination, what will I be used for, Or we I decompose be one with the Earth I will have to wait and see.
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Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
A Paper Boat
This poem is by Norman Stevens in response to MY poem about HIM. Have made some minor changes. In Willy’s Bar on High, Sheltered from Cleethorpes sea and sky, Paul Butters utters words of cheer, While quaffing his pint of Willy’s beer. He sets about his spicy meal, Loading up for his evening’s sport, When he’ll aim to be the real deal. Owner Bill’s Angels prepare another stew, To help down another “home –made” brew. They nip outside for another “staff meeting”, Paul says they’ve gone for a *** But THAT I’m not repeating. Throughout these capers, Norman reads his informative papers. Sipping his Nectar Beer, He’ll leave in good cheer. Norman Stevens Assisted by Paul Butters (C) PB\NS 17\11\2015.
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Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 8:45 AM UTC
Norman Stevens Gets Evens - by Norman Stevens
You want me to wear logos in my hair and purchase the matching scarf? A billboard for sale at the human scale Sporting your brand Oh, what a larf! Go Team Go! Print on a throw For the low price of fifty-four dollars I'd rather be happy not buying your sappy stuff that you sport on your collars you tell me to buy because i'll look fly and fill up my closet with swagger Believe when I say not one single day I'll fall to the dance of your dagger!
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 4:47 PM UTC
The Official Poem of the NFL
Sleepmonger, deathmonger, with capsules in my palms each night, eight at a time from sweet pharmaceutical bottles I make arrangements for a pint-sized journey. I'm the queen of this condition. I'm an expert on making the trip and now they say I'm an addict. Now they ask why. WHY! Don't they know that I promised to die! I'm keeping in practice. I'm merely staying in shape. The pills are a mother, but better, every color and as good as sour ***** I'm on a diet from death. Yes, I admit it has gotten to be a bit of a habit- blows eight at a time, socked in the eye, hauled away by the pink, the orange, the green and the white goodnights. I'm becoming something of a chemical mixture. that's it! My supply of tablets has got to last for years and years. I like them more than I like me. It's a kind of marriage. It's a kind of war where I plant bombs inside of myself. Yes I try to **** myself in small amounts, an innocuous occupatin. Actually I'm hung up on it. But remember I don't make too much noise. And frankly no one has to lug me out and I don't stand there in my winding sheet. I'm a little buttercup in my yellow nightie eating my eight loaves in a row and in a certain order as in the laying on of hands or the black sacrament. It's a ceremony but like any other sport it's full of rules. It's like a musical tennis match where my mouth keeps catching the ball. Then I lie on; my altar elevated by the eight chemical kisses. What a lay me down this is with two pink, two orange, two green, two white goodnights. Fee-fi-fo-fum- Now I'm borrowed. Now I'm numb.
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12.3k
The Addict
Sleepmonger, deathmonger, with capsules in my palms each night, eight at a time from sweet pharmaceutical bottles I make arrangements for a pint-sized journey. I'm the queen of this condition. I'm an expert on making the trip and now they say I'm an addict. Now they ask why. WHY! Don't they know that I promised to die! I'm keeping in practice. I'm merely staying in shape. The pills are a mother, but better, every color and as good as sour ***** I'm on a diet from death. Yes, I admit it has gotten to be a bit of a habit- blows eight at a time, socked in the eye, hauled away by the pink, the orange, the green and the white goodnights. I'm becoming something of a chemical mixture. that's it! My supply of tablets has got to last for years and years. I like them more than I like me. It's a kind of marriage. It's a kind of war where I plant bombs inside of myself. Yes I try to **** myself in small amounts, an innocuous occupatin. Actually I'm hung up on it. But remember I don't make too much noise. And frankly no one has to lug me out and I don't stand there in my winding sheet. I'm a little buttercup in my yellow nightie eating my eight loaves in a row and in a certain order as in the laying on of hands or the black sacrament. It's a ceremony but like any other sport it's full of rules. It's like a musical tennis match where my mouth keeps catching the ball. Then I lie on; my altar elevated by the eight chemical kisses. What a lay me down this is with two pink, two orange, two green, two white goodnights. Fee-fi-fo-fum- Now I'm borrowed. Now I'm numb.
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57
Heat beats down upon the street Birds too hot to fly, Blistered sand you cannot stand Drenched with sweat am I. Cows collect in shadow deep Panting sheep hang head, Goshawk flies in cobalt skies Hills of grass stand dead. Whisp of smoke, a puff of breeze Sirens scream in air, Running men in squads of ten Emerge from everywhere. Now the rising wind takes charge Runs with leaping flame Into crown of eucalypts To rage across the plain. Too late the tenders hoses pour, Too late the fireman’s shout Inferno hot has run amok And all control a rout. Generating mighty winds The fire charges forth Spiralling in furnace air To incinerate for sport. Vanquished men exhausted stand Watch with useless eyes, As raging flames consume their truck, Inside a good mate dies. A live thing in the burnished night It writhes and spirals high Across the flaring treetops Hot, red smoke fills the sky. As sudden as it starts, it stops A wind change in the air. Ravaged forest stark and black Hot ashes everywhere. Hills of cinders smoking now Stock in death’s repair, Homesteads rendered charcoal like Farmers in despair. A silence in the ravaged hills Birdless in the sky, Bushfire horror, death and smoke Enough to make you cry. Marshalg In support of my Australian brethren and their torched nation. 30 January 2013
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Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
Bushfire
Fiat lux and Then I stand and see how it looks out on Gnothi seauton psychologies of a naughty automaton he is Out speeding on the autobahn while she is Now sleeping on futons in peace it's Not pieces that need to be re-ordered yet Since he's reckless but wrecks less when he's courting it's A sport, you see a ticket's his master trophy in- Deed endorsing his Porsche-speed matrimony down master row and she's Driven to this racer who makes her en- Force things, they later make her take her lead like lead's erasing then vanishing Banished from whatever it is they're drinking and it's cleaned Running from the pitcher as if it's her fantasy Love who's the catcher who has her and Now you see It's not lack-lusting but luck-lasting because lastly Down the street Is where I swear we're running faster from crashing, finally Into this dreamcatcher's hazard Our dreamcatcher's hazard Oh have you heard It's absurd that the whip cracked Yeah the Porsche was hacked baby transformed back in two and back into a nat- Ural rural state where the horse power level was more morally sta- Ble biblically faith- Ful foolishly a- Ble but yeah we take over whatever we face-off and baby we're faster so we'll have to chase after our Dreamcatcher's hazard and That dreamcatcher's hazard's a A madness that is learned And it's absurd So say the mattress is glowing it's holy Matrimony, so don't look lonely it's only Master Roshi, to say to chase your dreams It's you and me be- Cause for you my blood is flowing For you my blood is glowing For you this blood is flowing And too the flood is blowing It's true our love is growing
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May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:22 PM UTC
Dreamcatcher's Hazard
Fiat lux and Then I stand and see how it looks out on Gnothi seauton psychologies of a naughty automaton he is Out speeding on the autobahn while she is Now sleeping on futons in peace it's Not pieces that need to be re-ordered yet Since he's reckless but wrecks less when he's courting it's A sport, you see a ticket's his master trophy in- Deed endorsing his Porsche-speed matrimony down master row and she's Driven to this racer who makes her en- Force things, they later make her take her lead like lead's erasing then vanishing Banished from whatever it is they're drinking and it's cleaned Running from the pitcher as if it's her fantasy Love who's the catcher who has her and Now you see It's not lack-lusting but luck-lasting because lastly Down the street Is where I swear we're running faster from crashing, finally Into this dreamcatcher's hazard Our dreamcatcher's hazard Oh have you heard It's absurd that the whip cracked Yeah the Porsche was hacked baby transformed back in two and back into a nat- Ural rural state where the horse power level was more morally sta- Ble biblically faith- Ful foolishly a- Ble but yeah we take over whatever we face-off and baby we're faster so we'll have to chase after our Dreamcatcher's hazard and That dreamcatcher's hazard's a A madness that is learned And it's absurd So say the mattress is glowing it's holy Matrimony, so don't look lonely it's only Master Roshi, to say to chase your dreams It's you and me be- Cause for you my blood is flowing For you my blood is glowing For you this blood is flowing And too the flood is blowing It's true our love is growing
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Ease your way Into Sunday, Monday’s here soon enough. Friday’s best, Time to rest, The week was tough. Boozeday Tuesday is okay I must say And Table Tennis Thursday ain’t bad too. Wednesday’s fish and chips are yummy – They fill my tummy, Washed down with a brew. I love Saturday sport, Who would have thought I’d get set in my ways? Such is my week, Hardly unique, But on Sunday I laze. Paul Butters
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May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 5:21 AM UTC
Lazy Sunday
What did I do to get those stares? Why do you guys look at like I'm a freak. They whisper and stare at me when I Board the bus. I'm just like you guys. I came back for the Love of the Sport. Not to be a Nuisance. I came because I love the sport. I don't care if I don't play. So Please don't give me the look why am I here? and Ignore me like I'm not there. I know I got cut from the team. I know I don't have my Serve. I know I seem weak. Like I can't do my Job. But I'm trying my Hardest. I want to please you guys. I want you to see that I'm here to help. The stares and whispers are breaking me. I'm going to have a breakdown. Because I know you guys don't want me there. I know why Stick around somewhere where you aren't wanted? I want to show them I care enough. That I am strong enough. I Just wish that's how they saw me.
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Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 12:47 PM UTC
My Volleyball Team
Hey, Ole Sport. Nice to see your face again. Life and love! Isn't it wonderful!? Strange too I suppose. But you're still here.. Why? The ones Who loved me the most, Daisy.. the ones from my Parties. They left.. But not you. Did you not love me? Or is it something else?
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Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC
One For Gatsby
The Iron Horse can still saddle this Coach, Whose Extract nourishes the Children he trains: One the Golden Girl; The Other a Hodge, Transpose to the Miracle-Boy remains Two-Scores-and-Four his Dedication baits, Like Tunes based to emasculate them both Here in the Pillow-Jungle Success does wait Bending limbs into Sport; Then promotes their Growth What Circus! Said the Lame Artist envine Yet in Prayer begs him to join the Fray He looked at his Pearls; And saw that they Shine Which, suspend, trained his Boon-Dogs to obey. Hence, to Devotion his Shoes retire Partner and Career; In Big Thanks suspire.
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Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 6:59 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: ANDY BANKS
I'm considered to be nerdy Awkward, not flirty. They call me gay, Because I Cosplay. I must be a dork Because Zelda's my lord, And she's way cooler than any sport. Could someone love me? That couldn't be. I watch too much anime, And BBC. I praise The doctor and Spock. Even Sherlock. Cause in my opinion They're better than jocks. Being nerdy is quite fun, But you make me sound dumb. We're accepting and caring But please stop staring. Am I making this boring? Don't start snoring.. Just give me a chance. I'll make it last. We could play Skyrim or league. Wait, don't leave! I can be cool, Just like you! I can calculate big numbers in my head, Or make a fortress out of my bed I can be an ork, elf, or spy. Just as long as it's allowed by the die. I can cast spells online. Don't worry, you'll be fine! I can role play to the extreme!!! That's right, I call it d&d.; I'm proud to be a geek. Yes, we're very neet! We know our facts! We're anime maniacs. I'm good at mtg! It takes skill to be like me. I'm cool I tell you! I'm grand. But at the same time, You don't make me feel great. I'm a loser, A dork No, I don't like baseball, football, or hockey I can't bench and I don't lift. But I go to some pretty intense parties... On Xbox. My heart is bigger than my head.. No, not literally. I'd bring you a rose And write you a poem You'd be my Rory. This isn't the end of the story. I'd love you more than video games, Star Wars, and D&D.; In the end, You're always my MVP. You don't have to lie, I know you'll decline.. but my feelings won't change. They'll always be the same. Maybe I'd be cool.. If I were with you. But that'll never be Because you fail to see OTP. Then again, It's all good in the end Because.. Roses are red Violets are blue Manga costs less Than dinner for two.
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Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
Nerd Poem
I'm considered to be nerdy Awkward, not flirty. They call me gay, Because I Cosplay. I must be a dork Because Zelda's my lord, And she's way cooler than any sport. Could someone love me? That couldn't be. I watch too much anime, And BBC. I praise The doctor and Spock. Even Sherlock. Cause in my opinion They're better than jocks. Being nerdy is quite fun, But you make me sound dumb. We're accepting and caring But please stop staring. Am I making this boring? Don't start snoring.. Just give me a chance. I'll make it last. We could play Skyrim or league. Wait, don't leave! I can be cool, Just like you! I can calculate big numbers in my head, Or make a fortress out of my bed I can be an ork, elf, or spy. Just as long as it's allowed by the die. I can cast spells online. Don't worry, you'll be fine! I can role play to the extreme!!! That's right, I call it d&d.; I'm proud to be a geek. Yes, we're very neet! We know our facts! We're anime maniacs. I'm good at mtg! It takes skill to be like me. I'm cool I tell you! I'm grand. But at the same time, You don't make me feel great. I'm a loser, A dork No, I don't like baseball, football, or hockey I can't bench and I don't lift. But I go to some pretty intense parties... On Xbox. My heart is bigger than my head.. No, not literally. I'd bring you a rose And write you a poem You'd be my Rory. This isn't the end of the story. I'd love you more than video games, Star Wars, and D&D.; In the end, You're always my MVP. You don't have to lie, I know you'll decline.. but my feelings won't change. They'll always be the same. Maybe I'd be cool.. If I were with you. But that'll never be Because you fail to see OTP. Then again, It's all good in the end Because.. Roses are red Violets are blue Manga costs less Than dinner for two.
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76
you sowed this **** into my brain... why do you even "think" that i want... you?              i, want your children... the meme-mutation is what i'm after...    and there are plenty of useful idiots to allow me to process the intermediating processes for: the sigma, "accomplishment"; which is unlike what infected mushroom's -   trance party track sounds like, outside of my own head. why do these people even think i'm after their genes of memes?                 i want, their infantile replicas...                  i want to craft a worthwhile curiosity, on a canvas, that that they call their gene replicas, children, and... like why called me... easy meat..                  einfachfleisch... what?     i'm not here for these news' anchors... i'm here for their children... nibble nibble nibble chew chow cow tow and main...             prawn crackers... ah... news anchors are easy targets...     slightly pointless 20x bulls eye honing devices... it's their children...      i want their children...     i want their cognition to become replica of wheelchair bound infirmaries; why?     oh... you know... football and wrestling, given the Qatar investment plan... the whole sport "thing" became a tad bit boring...   had to resort to secondary sources of entertainment; children of news anchors? the secondary, "last", albeit, the best resort;    schindler...   required a list,      to become reincarnated... and revive a **** a heartlessness of an reincarnation     anomaly:   i.e.: what, a limited number of people, to begin with?!      so the rest is primitive "a.i."? now i'm starting to think... thank the blue indians for their culinary innovations... but when it comes to their theology?                            **** 'em; did i advocate that? if i did... within what pronoun guarantee of advocacy? playing the grammar card...         which pronoun? the plural singular, or the singular plural, or the gender neutral?    thank you jean-paul sartre,      for the...  "i"... i simply love, this revised concept of a unit...            the revision clinging to the royalist affirmation of pronouns... i.e. 1 would say... so...          and 1... would, so, will, do so. **** the pronoun debate in Canadian politics...    if i have to resort to this? then i will... like your plain citizen...      may "i" speak within the confines, of the royal, one, given the example:    one might suppose... to be the former, and the current, highest, etiquette? gender neutrality of pronouns... last time i checked... one was never allowed pronoun stature... why not address this conundrum, to begin with?! oh, right... too late... too many loud mouths without a guillotine... so, basically, a cow fart's worth of argumentation.
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 11:51 PM UTC
I non Q
you sowed this **** into my brain... why do you even "think" that i want... you?              i, want your children... the meme-mutation is what i'm after...    and there are plenty of useful idiots to allow me to process the intermediating processes for: the sigma, "accomplishment"; which is unlike what infected mushroom's -   trance party track sounds like, outside of my own head. why do these people even think i'm after their genes of memes?                 i want, their infantile replicas...                  i want to craft a worthwhile curiosity, on a canvas, that that they call their gene replicas, children, and... like why called me... easy meat..                  einfachfleisch... what?     i'm not here for these news' anchors... i'm here for their children... nibble nibble nibble chew chow cow tow and main...             prawn crackers... ah... news anchors are easy targets...     slightly pointless 20x bulls eye honing devices... it's their children...      i want their children...     i want their cognition to become replica of wheelchair bound infirmaries; why?     oh... you know... football and wrestling, given the Qatar investment plan... the whole sport "thing" became a tad bit boring...   had to resort to secondary sources of entertainment; children of news anchors? the secondary, "last", albeit, the best resort;    schindler...   required a list,      to become reincarnated... and revive a **** a heartlessness of an reincarnation     anomaly:   i.e.: what, a limited number of people, to begin with?!      so the rest is primitive "a.i."? now i'm starting to think... thank the blue indians for their culinary innovations... but when it comes to their theology?                            **** 'em; did i advocate that? if i did... within what pronoun guarantee of advocacy? playing the grammar card...         which pronoun? the plural singular, or the singular plural, or the gender neutral?    thank you jean-paul sartre,      for the...  "i"... i simply love, this revised concept of a unit...            the revision clinging to the royalist affirmation of pronouns... i.e. 1 would say... so...          and 1... would, so, will, do so. **** the pronoun debate in Canadian politics...    if i have to resort to this? then i will... like your plain citizen...      may "i" speak within the confines, of the royal, one, given the example:    one might suppose... to be the former, and the current, highest, etiquette? gender neutrality of pronouns... last time i checked... one was never allowed pronoun stature... why not address this conundrum, to begin with?! oh, right... too late... too many loud mouths without a guillotine... so, basically, a cow fart's worth of argumentation.
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105
He had drifted in among us as a straw drifts with the tide, He was just a wand'ring mongrel from the weary world outside; He was not aristocratic, being mostly ribs and hair, With a hint of spaniel parents and a touch of native bear He was very poor and humble and content with what he got, So we fed him bones and biscuits, till he heartened up a lot; Then he growled and grew aggressive, treating orders with disdain, Till at last he bit the butcher, which would argue want of brain. Now the butcher, noble fellow, was a sport beyond belief, And instead of bringing actions he brought half a shin of beef, Which he handed on to Fido, who received it as a right And removed it to the garden, where he buried it at night. 'Twas the means of his undoing, for my wife, who'd stood his friend, To adopt a slang expression, "went in off the deepest end", For among the pinks and pansies, the gloxinias and the gorse He had made an excavation like a graveyard for a horse. Then we held a consultation which decided on his fate: 'Twas in anger more than sorrow that we led him to the gate, And we handed him the beef-bone as provision for the day, Then we opened wide the portal and we told him, "On your way."
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8.4k
A Dog's Mistake [In Doggerel Verse]
Haply but Sweetly, Serene Volumes mix And Summer's Fornication took its toll Please don't React. I am not here to fix Those very Clouds you hard-worked to install My name is Supporter; Though it sounds strange To write this Foreword which read too extreme Trust me this fully; I am well within range To lend you my Honest and Golden Ring Indeed Family does matter; Much on Sport An Athlete like you needs Supplement Prime This I can assure: They Love you formore Never to betray your Sensitive Time. Much grateful am I to scribble this Verse Now win your Medal; Let Nike converse.
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Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: RACHEL BUGG
Ben Kowalewicz (spoken): Hi, my name is Ben Kowalewicz and this is Billy Talent. Well I tripped, I fell down naked I drank from a cup of lead I hugged a skunk, it peed on me Yesterday I joined Scientology Steal a Camaro, then **** Jack Sparrow Try stupid **** try stupid **** Jump in a dump truck, smell **** and get stuck I cannot read, I cannot read **** on computers, then drink some pewter Die sanity, die sanity Marry a cheapskate, gain ninety pounds weight I'm really dumb, I'm really dumb I'm stupid, it's my fault, so daft I like to play in the garbage shaft The best sport is Parkour, **** straight I arrive at work five hours late Drink a deep fryer, eat some barbed wire Try stupid **** try stupid **** Sleep in a fireplace, burn your entire face I cannot read, I cannot read Cinnamon challenge, go on a chalk binge Die sanity, Die sanity Bike into traffic, pose pornographic I'm a ******* I'm a ******* I ate some poo! I'm stupid, it's my fault Try I'm stupid, it's my fault Lie This bad song don't make sense Pie Get a Prince Albert, snake blood for dessert now? Drink some Everclear, cut off your own ear now? Go back in time to, forties as a Jew Try stupid **** try stupid **** Do *** and rip off your right knee I cannot read, I cannot read Find the KKK, put on some blackface Die sanity, die sanity Locate a pervert, then take off your shirt I am a twit, I am a twit I am a twit, I am a twit Try stupid **** try stupid **** I am a twit, I am a twit
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May 27, 2012
May 27, 2012 at 6:15 PM UTC
Try Stupid **** a Billy Talent parody
Satan loves the sport of fishing. His tackle box filled with bait, he goes out to the lake of life to cast his line…and wait. The devil knows us, every one and knows which lures to use. In accordance with our weaknesses he determines which to choose. Dishonesty, *********** pride, selfishness and hate. False witness, greed, the list goes on.. The sin becomes the bait. Many bite and are deceived. And in a snap they’re hooked. They learn too late that Satan’s bait is not as it had looked. Our Savior hopes we choose the right for this life is our test; and when we choose to follow Him we truly will be blessed. So feed on Heavenly Fathers words. Great blessings will be yours, as you watch and pray, and stay away from Satan and his lures.
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Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 10:37 AM UTC
Satan's Lures